


Red as Blood, Blue as the Night

by secretsofMyst



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Child Abuse, I guess it's angst since they both think it's unrequited soulmates, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 19:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11835795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsofMyst/pseuds/secretsofMyst
Summary: Fushimi had always hated the color red, what kind of angry monster was his soulmate? Yata thought his soulmate was an empty husk of a girl to result in such a dreary world awash in blues. Meeting their soulmates doesn't quite go as expected.





	1. Red Droplets of Fire

“How do you like that, little monkey?” That man taunted from above Fushimi. The boy spat out blood. Dark red drops on a gray floor. “Oh, no, that won’t do, you can’t bleed all over my floors. Clean this up.” The man walked away laughing. He would be back, but for now, Fushimi forced his battered body up. He moved mechanically to gather the cleaning supplies and the bucket, red of course, to clean up. At least the rag was white. He knew it was because that man liked to see the contrast of the red against the clean cloth. Fushimi had always hated the color red. He hated seeing the blood that man was able to draw from him. 

“Niki? Are you in here? We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up,” that man’s wife walked in on Fushimi scrubbing the floor. She gave him a disinterested look and continued on down the hallway. A door opened and closed and Fushimi could hear muffled voices. They were pleasant, not the shouts that usually resulted from the adults being in the same room. Hurting him always made that man happy. Fushimi scrubbed harder. The floor was dull grey again, but the water in the bucket was pink. He hated being able to see the pinks of wounds on his skin that lasted for months after that man had left. Most of them hidden in places that his teachers and neighbors would never see, of course. The wife swept by him again. Fushimi was still scrubbing, if he tried hard enough maybe he could scrub the red out of his life. That man also saw red, but he loved it. Fushimi would give anything to never see any color in his life again. Black and white would be enough for him. He heard the door open again and felt his body tense. He didn’t look up, that would only make things worse. A foot hit him in the ribs. Hard. And then knocked over his full bucket. 

“Aww, little monkey, you have to try harder than that to clean up your foul blood,” the voice was almost sing-song now, “I’ll be back to a spotless house or you’ll be cleaning up after your filthy self for weeks.” The man was whistling as he left the house. Fushimi coughed into his hand, no new blood at least. He scowled down at the mess. Would it have been any different if they had been soulmates? If that man had been able to see colors other than the reds and pinks of fresh wounds? He shoved the thought away. That woman also only saw reds and she did not delight in tormenting him. Life might not have been any better if he had been born to soulmates.

* * *

Fushimi barely heard the man’s laughter. Every ounce of his being was focused on the his ant farm. His project. It was burning. A bright red monster was taking away all his hard work and not only did he not have anything to replace it with before it was due, that man just had to be the one to destroy it. The one thing Fushimi had let himself care about. He almost felt the ants screaming. It must be agonizing to burn to death like that. That man held him down in front of the flames, he felt the warmth of the fire on his face, but he couldn’t do anything to save his creation. The red glinted on his glasses and Fushimi soon found he couldn’t see it anymore through his tears. Tears he was trying his hardest not to shed and the anger started building inside of him. Everything in his life had been drowning in reds from the moment of his birth. The red of violence, the red of passion, the red of anger and impulse. “You’re not crying are you, little monkey? My precious monkey?” The laughter swelled as that man noticed the remains of Fushimi’s tears. It only added more fuel to his anger. He hid it as he tried hard to hide everything from this man.

* * *

It shouldn’t really surprise that man, Fushimi thought, the way it all had to end. One night Fushimi just so happened to find his way to the gasoline and matches that man had used on his ants. There was only peaceful snoring from his bedroom and the woman wasn’t home again tonight. He calmly and methodically used up the rest of the gasoline and once he was satisfied enough of the area around the room was covered, determinedly set it all on fire. He left with only the clothes on his back and his schoolbag. He would like to say he never looked back, but he stopped at the end of the street to watch the glorious red of the fire against the night sky. Maybe he could grow to enjoy the reds in life. He probably wouldn’t meet his soulmate at this rate anyway. If he even had one. They’d have to be a psychopath to love him. Though only an angry psychopath would have this much red in them. Or was he the psychopath like that man and woman who also saw red? 

A sudden alarm brought Fushimi back to the moment and he slipped away from the place he had once called home, he had a series of internet cafés already scoped out from when he really needed to avoid the man. 

“Goodbye, Father,” he whispered into the night.


	2. Azure Cracks in the Universe

Misaki sat on the floor by the door, his little face pushed up against the glass of the side window. His dad was getting into a blue car with a big suitcase. He hadn’t even waved to Misaki as he left. His mother stood at the door watching with him. Muffled sobs escaped through her hands.

“Mama, where papa goin?” He asked, looking up at her with wide eyes. 

“He had to go away, Misaki. Don’t worry he still loves you. He just couldn’t stay with us,” she managed to tell him. A weak smile accompanied her words. 

“I protec’ you now,” the little boy assured her and stood up to grab her hand. She bent over and hugged him close to her. 

“We’ll protect each other now, Misaki,” she told him. He wrapped his arms around her and she looked back out the window at the back of a rapidly retreating gray car in a gray world.

* * *

“Mom, what really happened to my father?” Yata asked as he walked back into the house after school. 

“No skateboards in the house, Misaki.” He scowled, but went back outside and around to the side of the house where he was supposed to store his skateboard. He was just always worried something might happen to it. As he clomped back in, properly this time, and gave her a hug, she added, “Why ask now?” Yata blushed and scratched the back of his neck, unconsciously taking a step back.

“Umm, no reason, really, I was just wondering. We never talk about it. That’s all,” he let out in a rush. He hoped she wouldn’t figure out the real reason. The kids at school, the whispered rumors. “And I just thought I should know now that I’m older?” He nervously scratched again.

“Hmmm,” his mom wiped her hands on the front of her pants and sighed, “I suppose it’s only fair. Let’s go sit down.” He followed her into their living room and sat next to her on the couch. She took his hands in hers, “First off, you know I love you and wouldn’t want to imagine life without you, right?”

“I know that, Mom, you don’t have to tell me every day, I’m not a little kid anymore,” he complained. 

“I know, I know, we wouldn’t be talking about this otherwise. But…it’s hard for me to talk about – and if I say something wrong, I don’t want you to blame yourself in any way,” she took a deep breath and looked Yata right in the eyes before she continued, “I loved your father. He loved me.” She looked away to steel herself, “Our only issue was, I was his soulmate, but he wasn’t mine.” Yata thought her eyes looked close to tears when she looked back at him and he squeezed her hands in support. Her voice was softer now, “He knew that when we met, and we tried to make it work. Some people never meet their soulmates, I told him I could deal with it. He assured me it was fine too. But…one day it wasn’t fine anymore. He couldn’t handle it. He felt like he wasn’t good enough. And that’s when his inner monster came out. He had to leave before something we’d both regret happen.” She stopped for a few moments. Yata let it all sink in, trying to fill in the gaps between what she said and what she hinted, but that was never his strong suit and he was too impatient to let all his thoughts settle. She sighed again, this time her face starting to shine, “And then I met your step-father. We bumped into each other in the grocery store when you were trying to run away from me, Mister. And there I was apologizing when I suddenly noticed the apples in his bag. I could all their different colors. He obviously saw the colors too, and well, here we are.” 

“So my father lost his soulmate and his kid?” He blurted out the first thing in his mind, something he thought he would have learned not to do by now. Immediately he saw the expression on her face and tried to backtrack, “I mean, I mean, ummm…that’s so sad for you. Loving my father and all and having him leave and not knowing you’d meet Dad.”

“It was hard, but I had you, Misaki. And the world is just so much more alive in color,” her face turned up in pure bliss as she clearly recalled seeing the full spectrum for the first time, “I hope you’re not as unlucky as I was. And that you get to see colors soon. Most people meet their soulmate by the time they finish school, after all.” Her eyes twinkled up at him. 

“Ahh, no, Mom, no! Not yet. I don’t even talk to the girls!” He quickly pulled his hands away and ran to his bedroom. He locked the door and let himself fall to the floor with his back to the door. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet his soulmate, it was just that girls were so scary. Besides that, his girl was extra scary. Blue was such a depressing color. There was no way a normal girl wanted everyone to see this dreary nonsense every day of their fricking life. Since starting middle school, a few guys did already start seeing color and they and their lucky girls were put on a different class track. When soulmates met, they would both get whisked away and it was obvious to the monochromes, those of them who could only see one color, that they were pitied. That look on his mom’s face when she talked about seeing colors for the first time and the way she talked about waiting so long being worth it, Yata wanted to meet his soulmate. He just had to get up the courage to talk to girls first. And maybe he could cheer up his mysteriously depressed soulmate. Just that thought cheered him up.


	3. Purple Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fated meeting goes as expected for Fushimi, what he does not expect is to be drawn into a friendship with his 'unrequited' soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I was distracted by the ending! This should also be the longest chapter, so hopefully the others will come out faster.

Fushimi sat at his school desk concentrating on his PDA. The new Jungle app had quite a few interesting features. He wasn’t sure if coming to school was worth it anymore, but then, what would he do? Until he had a better answer, he might as well keep going.

“Yata-team assemble!” A red-headed boy rushed through the rows of desks and knocked into Fushimi’s elbow. “Sorry!” Fushimi looked up at him with a scowl and blinked when their eyes met for a second. Had he really never met this person before? He was about to shrug off the whole thing and go back to his fiddling, when he noticed it looked different somehow. He frowned at his PDA. Oh, of course. The normally gray graphics had changed to show flashes of bright color. This would make the games easier. The guy, his soulmate he guessed, had charged on to his friends. Fushimi allowed himself one more moment of observation through narrowed eyes before shrugging, he hadn’t expected to be the guy’s soulmate as well. Actually hadn’t even expected it to be a guy. Oh well. He added some code. Maybe this Jungle thing could offer him a career.

* * *

“This kid’s loaded, he carries way too much just for a normal day.” Fushimi heard the voices too late to get away easily. 

“Hand it over nerd.” The bully shoved him up against a wall. It was a regular thing with them now. He really should hide his money better. Then again, it wasn’t like he kept most of it in his wallet anyway. He gave them a target they could find rather than making them look harder. They usually stopped after the wallet. Fushimi could afford to lose what he kept there. 

“Hey step away from him! Leave him alone!” Fushimi looked up to see the same red-headed kid from before. This could be troublesome. He had no desire to spend any time with the boy. Plus what kind of idiot attacked people so much older and larger than them. Even if he was a gifted fighter, they would be hopelessly outmatched. 

“Whatever, take it all,” he threw his wallet on the ground and watched the few items still inside scatter on the ground. He took a moment to appreciate the flashes of gold and green before looking back up. The other boy didn’t take the hint. 

“Ugh. That was rough.” Yata sighed out in contentment. Both boys were flat on their backs in an alley. 

“Idiot.” Fushimi knew they would have left without physical violence. Violence and anger, red made sense for this kid. Not something he wanted to be around. 

“I just want to protect people, is that so wrong?!” Yata replied enthusiastically. Fushimi could almost feel the prideful aura emanating from the boy who had been practically beaten to a pulp mere moments ago. 

“It is when your opponents have 100 pounds and 5 inches on you.” Common sense really, something the other should try to have more of. 

“Take that back, bastard! I’m not that short!” Fushimi just stared at the boy. His was so easy to rile up and he’d didn’t even know him. When Fushimi didn’t respond, Yata, pulled himself back up to a sitting position and stuck his hand out, “Well, I’m Yata! I see blues.” 

“…Fushimi. Reds.” And every other color now apparently he added silently. He shook hands with Yata and rose to leave. This was pointless. Time to go avoid the violent, angry monster fated to perfectly complement him. Protecting. Yeah, right. 

“Eh? Not even going to give me your full name after what I just did for you?” Yata jumped to his feet and planted himself in front of Fushimi. 

“Tch. I didn’t ask for your help. I had everything handled before you got here. Besides, you only gave me your last name as well. Unless you expect me to believe Yata is your first name?” He smirked down at Yata, pleased by the height advantage he now had, and went to move around him. 

“Fine! Be like that then!” Yata glared at him for almost a full minute before stomping off. He couldn’t believe how rude that boy had been. He was just trying to help, he hadn’t expected gratitude, but he always welcomed a friend. Fushimi watched him leave. It was so easy to elicit reactions from him. Then, he went off in the opposite direction. He had to go find where he was staying for the night.

* * *

Yata was upset, more with himself than with Yata-Team. No, there was no Yata-Team, it was disassembled forever. He couldn’t believe he had been so desperate for friends that he bullied some poor kids into hanging out with him. He couldn’t stay in class right after realizing it, so he found himself escaping to the bathroom and sitting in a stall hugging his knees. The lights seemed really bright today. He fumbled with his PDA before giving up on bypassing the class-time lock. What else was there to do in a bathroom? He looked up and noticed a blue light coming from the stall next to him. Someone else was skipping class with him. Maybe he wanted a friend!

He peeked over the stall divider, it was the same boy from yesterday! That meant he could talk to him, right? It wasn’t weird? He debated with himself for a few minutes before giving into his first instinct, “What are you doing there, Fushimi?” He stared down as Fushimi glanced up and gave him a bored look. He didn’t even look that surprised. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you it was rude to look over the stalls? Or did they just assume you were too short to ever be able to and didn’t bother?” Yata bristled. 

“Hey! I just haven’t hit my growth spurt yet! I’ll be plenty tall, just you wait!” He shouted down before he remembered he was skipping class and was supposed to not be drawing attention to himself. He grimaced. “Sorry, I’m not so great at this making friends thing. How’d you get your PDA to work during class?” 

“…it’s the Jungle app, it bypasses them. I’m playing one of their games.” He didn’t look up at Yata, but he felt like he owed him an answer. It’s not that he was curious about his soulmate. He knew trying to get closer to him would only result in pain. 

“Wow, you must be super smart then,” Yata hadn’t figured it out even though he had the same app. “Can I come over there and watch?” Wait, that was weird. Even if they weren’t using the stalls, sharing one to watch someone play video games was not normal. He was definitely not making a good impression on this guy, first they got beaten up together and now he was trying to share a bathroom stall with him. He watched him nervously for a moment. 

“Do what you want,” Fushimi couldn’t help himself. He had been in class when Yata got dumped by his friends. He could get to know him while Yata was looking for real friends and if it was all just temporary from the beginning, then Fushimi wouldn’t make any investments and wouldn’t feel anything when it ended. That almost made sense to him. 

“Alright!” Yata cheered. Fushimi had a sudden vision of Yata jumping over the stall divider and not bothering to look before he leaped. 

“You don’t have to be so loud about it. And enter normally please,” Fushimi muttered. Yata smiled down at the boy who was trying so hard to be grumpy. 

“I’m Yata, Yata Misaki, you’re Fushimi Saruhiko, right?” Yata said after he made it into the other stall and closed the door behind him. Fushimi looked up from the game at that. “Eh, we’re in the same class, I just didn’t remember it until after we parted ways yesterday,” he smiled up at Fushimi as he sat on the floor. 

“…You know Misaki you really shouldn’t make such a big deal out of not giving your first name, it makes it seem like you don’t like it.” 

“Don’t call me that! I don’t like it!” 

“Oh, but Misaki, when you let people know that, it gets so easy to mess with you,” Fushimi smirked down at him, fingers still moving on his PDA. Yata opened his mouth to reply angrily again, but was distracted by the speed of Fushimi’s fingers. 

“What are you doing now?” The menus were moving too fast for Yata to follow, especially from his backwards point of view of the floor. 

“I’m switching it to monochrome mode, just because I like a challenge doesn’t mean you can handle it.”

“I can totally do it, I bet I’m even better than you!” 

“Heh, if you say so. This game is JCube, you rearrange the colors in the almost rubix cubes to change the rules of how you play the cards below. I’ll go easy on you since you don’t know what all the different rules are yet,” Fushimi left out the fact that he could see the full spectrum of colors which gave him even more of an advantage in this mode. That information would only have been relevant if he was Yata’s soulmate. If the idiot really wanted to put himself at such a disadvantage, it wasn’t his problem. Might even make Yata lose interest in him faster if Fushimi trounced him too completely. He grinned, he could do that. 

“I won’t hold back, so it’s only fair that you don’t either!” Yata was excited, a cool new game and an interesting new guy, who he could maybe make want to be his friend, this was awesome. 

“Idiot.” This guy was far too excitable, Fushimi decided. There was no way he would be good at a game that required this much strategy even if he had played it before. Fushimi wouldn’t even have to try. 

“You’re really great at this, Saru,” Yata sighed out in contentment, “guess I’ll have to practice a lot more to get to your level.” He flashed a grin at Fushimi who just blinked. That was not the reaction he was expecting. 

“Tch. Who said I’d play you again, it wasn’t exactly a challenge,” Fushimi responded. He had no doubt Yata would forget about him quite quickly anyway, better to prepare for that now. 

“Eh? I thought we were friends now, you do keep using my first name after all.”

“…You have low standards for friends then.”

“You didn’t say no! Last chance to get away.”

“Fine. Friends.” Yata produced an excited whoop and Fushimi winced, “Can’t you be quieter? We are inside.” He already regretted encouraging him.

* * *

Fushimi wasn’t sure when temporary friends turned into Yata thinking they were actual friends, but he still woke up every day expecting to be left. Even as their pattern of hanging out after class and doing schoolwork was established, he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Fushimi managed to get out of dinners with Yata’s family for close to a year. He was over their house on several occasions when Yata had to babysit or just when it was raining and he was avoiding the internet cafés until it was late enough to get some sleep. He found that Yata’s siblings were just like mini-Misakis, except they preferred their admiration of Fushimi in physical affection. He became well practiced at dodging hugs and chaste toddler kisses, which of course just made them try harder because they enjoyed the game. 

As the year went by, Yata had wormed his way into Fushimi’s being, his heart, and underneath his rough exterior Fushimi found a vibrant, loving, loyal red. Then he did something dangerous, he started ignoring the thoughts that he wouldn’t be enough.

* * *

Yata enjoyed his new friendship with Fushimi. He wasn’t afraid to say what he really thought of Yata and he wanted to hang out with him anyway, there was no bullying in this friendship! Actually he didn’t think any of his old friends had ever been as close as Fushimi was to him. It was almost scary how well they understood each other sometimes. 

And since he only saw blues, Fushimi was the perfect friend. He spent more time than he would ever admit staring into Fushimi’s bright blue eyes while Fushimi was working or reading. Yata could swear that they changed colors with Fushimi’s moods. Surprisingly none of the blues seemed sad, they were exciting or defiant or stubborn, but empty and depressed were not thoughts he associated with Fushimi’s blues.

* * *

“Ehh, we’re using the nice dishes?”

“We have company, of course we’re using the nice dishes, Misaki.” His mother responded. 

“I thought you said you were saving them for a special occasion?” Yata followed up, he had been scolded more than once for even touching the patterned dishes. 

Fushimi started tracing the bright lines on the plates. The colors seemed to be mocking him. The bright red for the hurt he felt. The bright blue for the tears he wouldn’t cry. The bright green for all the times they went to the park. The bright yellow for Misaki’s smile…

“This is the closest you’ve gotten to bringing a girl home, Misaki, I guess I just gave up on that.” 

“Mom!” Yata blushed. 

“Misaki still can’t talk to girls,” Fushimi calmly added, taking a sip of water. He grimaced at the taste. He couldn’t take the taste anymore. Or the lack of taste. He was never quite sure with water. 

“Saruhiko!” Yata sounded wounded and Fushimi just smirked at him. 

“We’re using Yata’s soulmate plates? Did he finally meet the lucky girl?” Yata’s step-dad walked into the room. Yata’s mom gave Fushimi a sad smile, Fushimi didn’t want her pity. He had hoped it wasn’t that obvious. 

“What?! Mom!”

“So you haven’t met her yet?” His step-dad pursued. Yata glanced at Fushimi who was very determinedly avoiding eye contact with everyone. 

“…No, I haven’t met her.” As he got to know Fushimi, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted a her anymore. He glared at the plates. He could see the bright blue, but all the other colored stripes looked exactly the same. 

“We have a guest eating with us tonight,” Yata’s mom gestured to Fushimi, “so I thought we’d break out the nice dishes today and not the ones that Misaki’s dropped a million times.” 

“Tch, are you really that clumsy, Misaki?” 

“Shut up!”

“That’s no way to treat a guest, Misaki,” Fushimi and his mom said at almost the same time. They exchanged small smiles and Misaki felt something warm in his stomach at the interaction. Fushimi really had come a long way hadn’t he?

* * *

It was a night like any other, studying for their high school entrance exams when Yata surprised Fushimi again. He was good at that, Fushimi supposed it had something to do with the fact that Yata blurted out whatever was on his mind without thinking about it that made it harder to predict what he was going to do. 

“Let’s forget about high school and move in together. It’ll be fun! Us against the world,” he looked up from his books giving him that hopeful look that Fushimi was helpless against. And Fushimi ignored the voice inside telling him that this road led only to destruction. Yata had been content enough just hanging out with him so far. And the idea of them fighting against the rest of the world to protect their own small world, just the two of them, was quite appealing. Maybe they could be permanent friends. 

“Tch. It’s not the worst idea in the world. I hope you’re not expecting me to pay all the rent.” 

“You’ll do it then?! Alright! This is going to be awesome!” Fushimi let the warmth of Yata’s smile and excitement carry him past the thoughts telling him he was only chasing pain.

* * *

It was just like any other day, the day that Fushimi’s world began to crack. It started off just like the rest of his and Yata’s perfect days. Yata made him eat some breakfast and then they went out to play video games. Yata sucked at the new console game and Fushimi enjoyed pushing his buttons to see all the different expressions Yata made. 

Yata grabbed his cola out of his hands after a particularly bad death, took a swig and threw it away from them. They both looked up when they didn’t hear it clatter or crack against the pavement only to see a tall red-headed man had caught it. Fushimi was speechless as he watched the man drink, no chug, the soda and then throw the melted glass bottle back at them. The blond man’s invitation to join them barely registered as the group of thugs walked away. When he glanced over at Yata, the boy was gaping at the spectacle. He smirked at him, even if he didn’t understand exactly what happened either, that face was so ador-silly. It was silly. 

“That guy has the reddest hair I’ve ever seen!” Yata gasped. He was pretty sure it was red. The color had been harder to distinguish based on the value slides they’d been shown in school lately, but that’s probably just because it was too much work to pick out the subtle differences between colors. Anyway, it definitely wasn’t green, green hair wasn’t normal. 

“Hmm,” Fushimi managed to get out. Based on the sinking feeling he had in his stomach, he had let himself forget the most important lesson he’d learned: Nothing is permanent and no one can ever love you. He’d let himself believe he’d have Yata all to himself in perpetuity. He grimaced, now that Yata had met his soulmate, how much longer would Fushimi get to stay in his life?

“Eh, everything okay, Saru?” Yata noticed the sour expression on his friend’s face. 

“You just wasted our soda, idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine that in a world where you don’t see the full color spectrum until you meet your soulmate, lots of people would go for really brightly colored things once they can see them. Clothes, plates, bags, makeup, etc. Kind of like how little kids light bright colors and are drawn to them. Imagine older people walking around in the primary colors and bright patterned clothing and you can tell that they recently met their soulmate and everyone just kind of nods knowingly, they went through that phase as well, or at least knew someone that did.


	4. Violent Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are two ways to react when you think your soulmate doesn't love you, one is to pursue them until they reject you and the other is to reject them before they reject you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just warning you, this chapter took a while to finish because I kept making myself too sad to work on it. Sorry!

After their failed plan to foil Jungle, Fushimi wanted to hide from the world and never show his face again. Since his world was Yata and they lived together, that plan barely hatched before cracking. Instead he found himself dragged along to join HOMRA. 

The ones who bailed them out. 

The ones who gave Yata what he couldn’t. 

The group that had Yata’s actual soulmate in it. 

Fushimi made excuses to himself. He was just looking for more power. He couldn’t let Yata get ahead of him in anything. He was curious about this world of the Kings. Anything to pretend that his world wasn’t slowly burning. 

Yata, on his part, was lively and engaged. He bought into the comradery and family ties of the group. Fushimi didn’t call them a gang anymore after Yata took it too personally the third time he “accidentally” let the word slip. Every other word out of Yata’s mouth was Mikoto. 

Fushimi started keeping track of every word or comment that set Yata off and made sure to fire one off every ten Mikotos. After a few particularly bad days, he set a limit at ten fights a day. Any more and Yata wouldn’t have time to give Fushimi any positive attention. It was an uneasy balancing act.

* * *

Tatara loved when the leaves started to change colors. Every year he pulled Mikoto out to admire the foliage with him. Once Mikoto became the Red King, Tatara started recruiting the rest of HOMRA to accompany them. 

“That sounds awesome! We’ll be there!” Yata volunteered him and Fushimi. Fushimi just clicked his tongue, it was better not to argue about this in front of everyone. Of course Yata would want to spend as much time as possible with Mikoto. “W-w-wait, we wouldn’t be crashing your date or something, would we?” 

“Nope! I’ve had plenty of years with King alone, part of making new memories is switching things up!” 

“Heh and what does a virgin like you get out of looking at fall leaf colors?” Fushimi snipped at Yata as the group started out on the short hike through Tatara’s favorite park. 

“Th-that has nothing to do with seeing color!” 

“Hmm, you don’t deny it?” 

“Bastard!” Fushimi just smirked at him. Yata was so predictable. He wasn’t even trying hard to get his attention. He erased the thought as soon as they turned the bend and Mikoto and Tatara came back in view. They weren’t even touching, but there was something intimate about the way they were angled towards each other, talking and laughing in their own little world. Yata took one look at them and stuttered something out about going back to check on Kamamoto. Fushimi grunted and pretended to be engrossed in the scenery. 

Mikoto’s hair matched the red leaves and as Fushimi watched a yellow leaf twirled down and settled on his head for a moment before Tatara pointed it out, giggling. Mikoto smiled lazily and burned the leaf, ignoring Tatara’s outraged gasp. Sometimes it hurt to see them so happy together, another example of something Fushimi couldn’t have, but today was one of the days that Fushimi took pleasure in the fact that at least it was hurting Yata as much as it hurt him. 

Fushimi looked away from the happy soulmates and focused his attention on the path, taking his frustrations out on the leaves unfortunate to have already fallen to the ground for the rest of the walk. Yata didn't return to his side. 

* * *

Yata couldn’t help replaying one of the last conversations he had with his mom before he moved out with Fushimi. He didn’t know why he had asked her in the first place, but now it haunted him way too often. Wishing that her answer had been different. 

_“Mom, do you think can someone become your soulmate? Even if you didn’t see color when you first met, I mean,” Yata had been pushing. the thought around his head for a few days and he still winced as soon as it was out and he saw his mom’s knowing smile._

_“Is this about someone in particular? Some lucky guy or girl?”_

_“Moooom! No! Just curious,” he concentrated really hard on not turning red. He was too embarrassed to meet her gaze so he didn’t know if he was succeeding and he also missed her sad eyes._

_“Not everyone meets their soulmate, so there’s no shame in loving someone who isn’t your soulmate. I did. Even when you’re with a soulmate, it’s still a lot of work.”_

_“You can’t learn to be someone’s soulmate?”_

_“It hasn’t happened yet. But soulmate’s aren’t all there is in life, not even all so called soulmates work out. Don’t regret loving someone just because they’re not ‘perfect’ for you. You’d miss out on a lot of happiness that way.”_

Even if you could love someone who wasn’t your soulmate, it only ended in trouble. When they met their soulmate, it was over for you, who would miss out on their chance with a perfect match? By this point, he was pretty sure he didn’t have a proper soulmate with the colors and everything because there was no way his soulmate wasn’t already in his life. That didn’t mean his _hypothetical_ soulmate didn’t have someone just waiting to meet him and steal him away from Yata though. 

He groaned, why did life have to be so difficult? He was sure it would be easier if there was no such thing as soulmates.

* * *

Fushimi wasn’t sure why Tatara kept choosing bonding activities that lacked appeal to the monochrome members of the clan. It made sense that Mikoto wouldn’t realize it, but Kusanagi should have pointed it out. Though there were the slightest hints that Kusanagi had recently met his soulmate, perhaps he was distracted by the colors as much as Tatara was. 

Maybe for them the colors brought warmth and positive feelings. To Fushimi they were just a reminder of something he couldn’t have. Someone that didn’t want him. 

“Hey Saru! Isn’t this exciting! I don’t think I’ve ever actually watched a sunset before!” 

“Tch. The sun sets every day.” 

“But we’ve never watched it together! With all of HOMRA I mean,” Yata beamed up at Fushimi. He was really just happy Fushimi was there, sunsets were supposed to be romantic after all. 

Fushimi for his part, was only there because he still wanted, no needed, to watch Yata more than he needed to avoid the pain it caused. He watched as Yata ran to catch up with Kamamoto and the others. When they reached the top of the hill Tatara had found, he watched them all set up next to each other. He spread his spare jacket on the grass close enough to hear the group, but far enough away that he wouldn’t be expected to interact with Mikoto. 

“Scoot over.”

“There isn’t room.”

“There is if we sit like this,” Yata said as he squeezed next to Fushimi. It was more like on Fushimi. He leaned his head on Fushimi’s shoulder and quickly glanced up to see if it was okay, it had been a while since they had been this close. Since they joined HOMRA, Fushimi had felt a little more distant. When he didn’t receive a death glare, he hummed contentedly and snuggled in closer. 

“You don’t have to be so close just to watch a sunset.”

“But if I’m not, I’ll be on the grass.”

“You could have brought your own jacket.”

“If you don’t want to share, I can go see if Kusanagi has room on his blanket,” Yata challenged. He held his breath for a moment and then let out a sigh of relief when Fushimi didn’t tell him to leave. he was getting better at understanding when Fushimi was just complaining to complain. He probably liked the sound of his voice or something, not that Yata blamed him. 

As the sun started to set, Yata realized he didn’t understand the appeal of the actual sunset. Tatara forced Mikoto to open his eyes and then Mikoto actually sat up to watch the rest of it. Kusanagi watched it with a degree of wonder like he had never seen something so beautiful in his life. Even Fushimi, when he looked up at him for a minute, was entranced.

Yata squinted at it in confusion. The sky was all the same color and the gray clouds weren’t anything special. The hill they were on overlooked a small pond which was even reflecting the same color as the sky. It wasn’t an appealing color. He missed the deep blue of the sky and the calming blue of the water. Blue was reassuring and constant. It was comforting. He looked up at Fushimi again and met his eyes. There was the blue Yata thought of as his blue. He beamed up at him. Fushimi looked away, but tentatively wrapped his arm around Yata. If every sunset they watched was like this, maybe Yata wouldn’t mind.

* * *

“When I first saw Mikoto, even from across the room I could tell he just had to be a King, he was so noble! And then the first time I spoke to him, I found out he was-” Tatara told a rapt Yata. 

“Don’t even say it,” Mikoto quietly warned without opening his eyes. 

“King of my heart!” 

“Hnn.”

“You know you love me.” Yata had to laugh as Tatara leaned into Mikoto and batted his eyelashes. Mikoto just flicked his eyes open for a moment to let out a hint of a smile before returning to his semi-nap. Yata wanted that, the comfortable back and forth and knowing where you stood in a relationship. He watched them wistfully for a moment more before glancing back to Fushimi’s normal lurking perch. Fushimi wasn’t looking, he was having a staring contest with the wall. Yata absentmindedly flicked his eyes over Fushimi’s and nearly gasped. That was a new blue, cold and lifeless. It made him feel sick. 

“Are you okay, Misaki?” Trust Tatara to always be observant. Even when he wished he would ignore what he saw. 

“Yeah, fine, I just gotta use the bathroom,” he tried to smile at him. At least no one else was paying attention. He made his escape and splashed water on his face. His stomach was still in knots. He had forgotten how terrible blues could be. And in Fushimi’s eyes it felt like a personal attack. He whirled around when he heard the door swing open. 

“Tatara was worried about you,” Fushimi said tonelessly. Yata couldn’t bring himself to look in his eyes. Usually he would pretend he saw an unspoken _I was worried_ in Fushimi’s eyes since there was no way he would ever say it out loud. After that look, Yata couldn’t gather enough imagination to make the effort and he was on edge. 

“Why don’t you ever say what you mean? Just admit it if you’re worried! Don’t use other people as an excuse! You can have feelings too!” Fushimi just stared blankly back at him throughout the outburst. “And I’m fine,” he mumbled. 

“Tch. Fine, not that I cared. Tatara just kept bothering me,” Fushimi turned on his heel with that annoyed air he carried every time they were in HOMRA. 

Yata stayed in the bathroom alone for a few more minutes, at least his stomach had recovered from Fushimi even if his head was still reeling. Fushimi was gone when he made it back out, not that he had expected anything else. 

“Thanks for sending Fushimi to check on me, Tatara, I didn’t mean to worry you,” he forced out a smile that felt as fake as Fushimi’s concern for him. 

“Huh? I didn’t send Fushimi. Was there something to worry about?” 

“Ohh, right, nope! Everything is fine! Nothing to worry about!” That bastard. Yata wasn’t even sure why he liked him sometimes.

* * *

Fushimi perched on top of the roof alone. Finally, he could breathe. It had been stiflingly warm and chummy in the bar tonight. He knew he shouldn’t let the soulmate talk bother him, it was a common enough subject, but Yata had been distant lately and it was getting harder to watch him pining wistfully after a soulmate he could never have. If only because it was all too familiar of a situation for Fushimi and it reminded him of how impossible his deepest buried hope was.

He wasn’t sure when the balance between pain and not-quite-happiness shifted towards pain and just kept slipping. The Blue King’s offer came at just the right time, Fushimi had been feeling numb all the time and he knew from experience that led down a dangerous path. One he could not imagine dragging Yata down. 

He had to get out before he did something he regretted and lost Yata forever. And right after Yata had condemned traitors, Yata wouldn’t be able to ignore him after this. If he couldn’t have Yata’s positive attention, Fushimi would destroy those emotions. He would crush any positive sentiment Yata had left for him. He played with how to best tell his best friend, well former best friend now. His mood was buoyed by how deliciously horrible all the scenarios played out in his head. And as he donned the new blue uniform, the only color _his_ Yata had been able to see, he found one comforting thought resounding in his head. 

Hate lasted longer than love.


	5. Ruby Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two of Fushimi's birthdays with the blue clan, up to the night he finds out about Tatara's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is not a happy chapter either. If I was reading this, I'd wait until the next chapter is posted to catch up. At least that one is slightly happier. 
> 
> Also I really suck at summaries.

The day he left Yata burned itself into Fushimi’s mind. He found himself ruminating on it for months after it happened. Alone, in his Scepter 4 dorm, he amused himself with it as he waited for sleep. The anger on Yata’s face, the hurt he tried to hide, the final nail in the coffin when Fushimi turned to the most destructive power he knew: red flames. The fire had destroyed his childhood naivety. Then he took it into his own hands to destroy his living nightmare. Then it struck back and stole the only person he had ever cared about, his soulmate. It was only fitting to use the flames to symbolically destroy any hope he had left for them. His fingers itched even now, thinking about it. He was getting better at only scratching the mark and not adding more burns. Fushimi irrationally was afraid that if the burns faded, he would find himself drawn back. The burn reminded him of the much greater pain he felt before. A warning of the pain he would be returning to if he gave in to his deepest desires.

* * *

It was his first birthday since he met Yata that he wouldn’t be celebrating it with him. Before Yata, he hadn’t seen the point in birthdays, they had only been another opportunity for that man to mess with him. Yata changed that. Yata loved birthdays and took the opportunity to bake and cook and just shower all his attention on the birthday person. Fushimi had grumbled about it the first year, but by the time they joined HOMRA he had become used to it just being the two of them and even secretly looked forward to it. It was the one day he allowed himself to fully pretend that they could live forever with just the two of them. That was never enough for Yata. Birthdays turned into full clan affairs as soon as they joined HOMRA and every other person received just as much attention from Yata as Fushimi was used to having focused only on him. 

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping for some acknowledgement from Yata today. The day passed by uneventfully, nothing out of the ordinary in the intelligence department. He kept one eye on his PDA during his shift, he estimated his productivity was only 95% of its usual level, but he already accomplished at least twice as much work as the other men in the department, so he didn’t care. His distraction was unrewarded, the day passed without a single word from his former friend. 

He winced as he silenced his PDA and put it down for the night before collapsing in his bed. It was close to midnight, he wasn’t going to get anything. It had been foolish to hope. Sleep came quicker that night than usual. He blamed the unusual emptiness he felt at being forgotten. He really should have expected it. He was the one who destroyed the best thing that ever happened to him. Only before Yata destroyed it first, the other voice whispered at him. 

The day after his birthday, he woke to his normal alarm and saw the blinking light indicating a voicemail. He groaned, only Munakata ever called that early in the morning. He dressed and grabbed a coffee to gird himself before checking the PDA. He blinked and took another sip of coffee to reassure himself that he was not dreaming. The name “Yata Misaki” blinked back at him.

“Jerk! Why’d you have to leave! Everything was going so well! Anna misses you. Tatara says to ask you about it and that I have to stop moping around the bar. Shit. Didn’t mean to say that. That happens when you’re drunk, ya know, you say things you didn’t mean to. Like calling you in the first place. Bastard. I know I shouldn’t care, but,” there was a long pause and Fushimi almost exited out of the voicemail, then there was a sudden burst of speech, “happybirthdayjerk.” The message ended. 

His intermittent smiles had his coworkers on edge for the rest of the day.

* * *

He didn’t want this half-hearted thing, he wanted all of Yata’s hate. He knew he deserved it after all he’d done. After the destruction he caused, after letting himself believe that this could happen. Misaki. You shouldn’t feel anything positive about me. You should only hate me. Hate me with all the fire in your soul. All that passionate, angry red. It should bother you when I’m not around, you should feel it festering in your soul. So when you do see me, you can let it all out on me. Make me feel it. I beg of you. Let me feel how important I am to you again. 

No, if he couldn’t have all of Yata, then no one could. He needed to have a permanent place in Yata’s life.

* * *

Fushimi would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to his third birthday at Scepter 4, but he’d still tell you he wasn’t. It was the only day of the year he had a guarantee that Yata would think of him without any prompting on his part. It was proof that he still mattered to him. 

He stopped cold when he abruptly remembered the disappointment in Munakata’s voice when he found out no one had celebrated Fushimi’s birthday the past two years. He frowned and shook his head. Time to change his birthday wish: he just hoped they wouldn’t be forced into team bonding activities with this as an excuse. 

“G-good morning, Fushimi,” Domyoji said. He nodded at the man, his frown deepening. Usually his teammates knew better than to talk to him before he had his coffee. Really, they knew better than to try and talk to him unless he was already in a good mood. 

“It’s supposed to be beautiful today, Fushimi!” Akiyama said. Fushimi snapped out of his morning routine, blinked, and looked up at them. Benzai was with them too, and they were all watching him. Suspicious. He finished pouring his coffee.

“Hmm,” he turned to make his way to his desk. 

“Wait, didn’t you want to go on patrol today?” Akiyama nervously said. 

“Alone?” Domyoji chimed in.

He rubbed his temples, it was too early for them to be this brave in talking to him. He absentmindedly noticed one of his knives was free of its holster. He took a sip of coffee, flipped the knife up and re-sheathed it. He took the time to survey the office. Something was up and he found his answer rather quickly. Someone, Domyoji most likely, had left some obnoxiously bright pink wrapping paper in the open. He winced, even someone who couldn’t see the color could surely tell that was too bright? Perhaps he should leave the office for the day.

“Hmm,” he nodded his head and walked right back out the door. Time to be anywhere but here. 

Fushimi wandered aimlessly around the city, avoiding the Scepter 4 patrols whenever he could. He accidentally ended up in a familiar park. Sitting down on a swing, he let his mind empty out for a moment. A phone ringing jolted him back to reality. 

“Fushimi here.”

“Emergency in zone 3, we need your presence right away,” Awashima’s voice barked out at him.

“Hnn. Fine,” he knew he wasn’t actually needed there. He still had time to stay in the park. Twenty minutes later, he saw a flash of blue and quickly ducked behind a tree before leaving the park while their backs were turned. 

He stopped at the ramen cafe a few blocks away from the park. Not out of any hope to see anyone, just to eat some lunch. He had skipped breakfast after all. Fushimi did almost order something with vegetables in it before he remembered that this time he was alone and there was no one to care whether or not he was eating healthily. All meat was fine. The cafe was too loud when he was sitting there eating alone. He wasn’t sure how he had dealt with it before. 

The day was bright and cheerful, not at all suited to his mood. Fushimi scuffed his boots on the sidewalk as he walked. This neighborhood was familiar in all the worst ways. He scowled at the kids who got too close to him. Some of them only giggled which made his mood worse. He went into the grocery store he used to hang out in, only to see a familiar shock of red hair. What was he doing here? Fushimi tailed Yata around the store, thankful for the obliviousness of his soulmate. Yata was only grabbing a few things. Cola. Pineapple. Mild vanilla ice cream. After that last one Fushimi had to gather his thoughts together for a moment. Did he really still buy all of that? And on Fushimi’s birthday? When he peeked around the corner again, Yata was gone and he was left feeling like he had imagined it. He took another moment to search the store before leaving.

And walking right into Awashima. 

“Ah, there you are Fushimi, I’m here to personally escort you back to headquarters.” He debated trying to sidle away from her, but there was only so much he could do before it was direct insubordination. This special ops team really wasn’t going to be worth all the trouble it got him in.

* * *

“A red clansmen has been killed.” Fushimi felt his life flash before his eyes before his sleep addled brain reminded him that he was still seeing color, it wasn’t Yata. He breathed a sigh of relief before asking calmly for an identity. He thanked his quick brain, there’s no way the question would have made it out if he had been unsure of Yata’s status. 

Hearing it was Tatara was almost as much of a shock. That guy always acted like he was invincible. He couldn’t believe it at first. _Don’t worry it will all work out in the end._ And look where that got you, Tatara. Maybe it was time to think about the last piece of advice Tatara gave him. No. It wasn’t worth it. If anything, Yata was going to be more focused on Mikoto now. The only barrier between Yata and what he wanted was gone. And Fushimi was no where in that new life.

He had fresh burns on his HOMRA mark that night.


	6. Steel Blue Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yata gets dragged speed-dating, tries to serve dinner to HMRA, and gets a revelation about colors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, maybe this chapter has more funny moments than being happier overall? But nothing is as sad as Fushimi's thoughts and fears, so this should be an improvement over the last one.

It was a nice day for November. Or it would be if Yata wasn’t being forcibly propelled out of the bar by his so-called friends. “G-g-guys, why do I have to come with you anyway?” 

“It’ll cheer you up! That’s what friends do.” Chitose tightened his grip on Yata’s shoulder. 

“And Kusanagi said he couldn’t have you moping around the bar all the time,” Dewa said. 

“I don’t mope!” He tried to wiggle away for the umpteenth time. Unsuccessfully. 

“You do,” Chitose said cheerfully as he and Dewa propelled Yata further away from the safety of HOMRA bar. 

“That doesn’t mean I have to go speed dating!” Maybe arguing his way out of the situation would work better than physically resisting. 

“It’s not speed dating, it’s speed soul mating!”

“As if that makes it any better,” Yata grumbled. Verbal arguments were always _his_ strong point and not a skill Yata had developed. Or had ever thought he'd need to develop.

“Okay, now this is easy, all you have to do is walk up to people,” Chitose dragged Yata into the middle of the event. They had arrived fashionably late, so it was already bustling. “Just look at her,” he elbowed Yata in the side, “her eyes not her feet, idiot.” 

“Hey-” Yata started as he looked up at the girl’s face before she turned away after making eye contact. “What the hell was that?” He turned to Chitose.

“I said it was speed soul-mating, all you have to do is make eye-contact. No talking required, unless one of you sees color.” 

“Chitose, I thought you had already met your soulmate? Why do you come to events like this?”

“Shh, not so loud,” he leaned in, “obviously not everyone at these events can meet their soulmate, so at the end of the event there are plenty of lonely women just ripe for the picking. Now what types do you like? If you’re interested in going home with a girl, you should at least try making a match before that. Buxom blondes? Maybe small red headed girls?” Yata just blushed. 

“Dark haired,” he muttered. He barely got it out before he was ushered into the path of a bunch of brunettes and black-haired girls. Predictably, no matches. It was getting harder to even look up at them for the short second of eye-contact, but Chitose was keeping a steady stream of dialogue up next to him. “Yo, Chitose, quit it. I don’t think any of these girls is my soulmate.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you say so earlier? Let me take you through the guys over there instead,” and with a whirl Yata found himself shepherded past a dizzying array of attractive men. Now he was having trouble tearing his eyes away from theirs as he didn’t match with them. One or two winked at him in a way that made him blush so hard he felt it down in his bones. Or maybe it was his stomach. They were definitely here for the same reason as Chitose. He gulped, he wasn’t sure he could handle this much longer. 

“Umm, I need a drink! Why don’t you go and meet some of the girls?” He finally managed to get in while they were in between lines of guys. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, wouldn’t want you to miss out because you’re babysitting me, I’ll be fine,” he smiled and sighed in relief when Chitose left him alone.

He slumped into a seat at the bar in the back of the venue. This was so much more than he had expected for the day. His head was spinning. 

“You look like you need a drink, here,” the older man next to him plunked a shot down in front of him. 

“Thanks,” he took it warily, eyeing the man before deciding he wasn’t dangerous. He trusted his instincts. And Yatagarasu could take care of himself. 

“You look like you’re trying to get over someone,” Yata spluttered and almost spit out the drink. He barely managed to avoid making a mess. The man just chuckled and took a sip from his drink. “I know that look, kid. It’s the same reason I’m here.” 

“Do you not believe in soulmates then?” He couldn’t help himself from asking, he blamed the alcohol even though he knew it was too soon for it to be affecting him. The man waved for another round of drinks for them. His eyes were sad. 

“I do, I have-had one.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. She left. We were soulmates and she left anyway.” He pushed his second drink to Yata. “Soulmates are soulmates, but we still had to make the choice. To work at it. And she was tired of it,” he downed his glass of whiskey. “Now the only way I know she’s okay is that I still see color. Sure, I believe in ‘em. But they don’t mean shit in the real world. Now, excuse me, I think I see a sad women my age who might need my services.” He left Yata alone at the bar with quite a few drinks. 

Such a sad outlook, he thought as he drank the rest of the alcohol. Dewa found him there still nursing the last glass of whiskey and muttering to himself about useless friends and soulmates being a load of crap. The last thing Yata remembered was calling _that jerk_.

* * *

“And now, my famous green pepper chili!” Yata announced as he carefully balanced the full serving dish all the way to the table in the center of the bar. He loved the nights everyone hung out at the bar for dinner, like a family. It distracted him from his hauntingly empty apartment. He really should move out. The traitor wasn’t coming back anyway and he didn’t want to keep being reminded of him. Yata beamed up at the confused clansmen, his family, and started doling out portions of chili for everyone, “What’re you guys looking like that for?” 

“Umm, Yata, this is red,” Kamamoto said apologetically while everyone else just started silently. Yata had been touchy ever since Fushimi left, even if it had been over a year ago now. 

“Oh, I, uh, left something in the kitchen. I’ll be right back!” He dropped the ladle into the bowl and ran away. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered in the safe solitude of the kitchen and kicked the counter, “I should have asked Kamamoto to get the green peppers like I usually do. I ruined a perfectly good meal. I really am a useless idiot.” 

“Now, Yata don’t be too hard on yourself, it'll all work out. We still have a wonderful red pepper chili after all.” Yata whirled around to face Tatara. He hadn’t noticed him enter the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry, Tatara, didn’t see you there. Are they all making fun of me for not meeting my soulmate yet?” Yata forced out a laugh. 

“That’s no reason to be so hard on yourself. And you know they’d only do that to your face,” he smiled down at Yata and patted him on the shoulder. After a moment of silence, Tatara softly asked, “So red and green are hard for you to tell apart?”

“They look exactly the same! Just darker or lighter. Like I can see a full range of blues, but everything else is in the same color just darker or lighter. And I know if I just pay more attention to the values, I can tell them apart like everyone else, but no matter how hard I try, I still mess it up,” Yata stared at the floor, he hadn’t been planning on admitting his weakness, but Tatara was like that. He drew out things you didn’t mean to share. 

“Yata,” Tatara began slowly, “have you ever heard of color blindness?” Yata’s head shot up and he watched Tatara intensely as he shook his head. “I'd say in your case, you can’t distinguish between red and green. It gets overlooked a lot since color is so important in our lives, but for you to even be mixing them up like that means that you’ve met your soulmate, Yata.” 

“Wh-what? But I only see blues!” He felt his heart leap in his chest for a moment. 

“Did you always have trouble with red and green? Or can you remember the first time you mixed them up?” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s as far back as I can remember-wait,” Yata chewed on his lip before continuing, “I think I remember a Christmas in middle school where I apologized to Sar-someone I gave a present to, because I only found red wrapping paper and it wasn't festive enough. And they just made fun of me for being a guy who hadn’t met his soulmate or I would obviously have seen that the paper I used was striped red and green.” Yata looked wistful, that memory belonged to a time when he and Fushimi were still friends, the first Christmas they were friends and Fushimi just wasn’t able to deal with the idea of someone wanting to give him a present. He always lashed out like that when you got too close to him for the first time. At least, until he realized you weren’t trying to hurt him. 

“So that’s some pretty good evidence that you’ve actually met your soulmate already, congratulations, Yata!” 

“Too bad I didn't figure it out when I met them," he grumbled. Then a thought struck him, “Wait, Tatara, does this mean my sweatshirt and shorts aren’t red?” 

“Eh? Your sweatshirt is red, but the shorts are a very dark green. I just thought it was an interesting fashion choice.” 

“Figures. I can’t even really see red, but I get to see that traitor’s blue nice and clear.” He started angrily pacing around the kitchen, mumbling to himself. 

“Well, now that we’ve got that sorted out, I’ll just leave you to your grumbling, okay?” Tatara waved and left without waiting for an answer, leaving Yata alone with his new revelation.

So if that was the first time he mixed up red and green, there was a good chance his soulmate actually was Fushimi. He felt his heart flutter again with hope. Then it sunk when he realized something terrible: Fushimi was his soulmate, but was he Fushimi's? If he was able to just leave HOMRA, leave Yata, chances were it was one-sided. How could anyone just leave their soulmate like that? They couldn’t. At least Yata knew he couldn’t. 

"Fuck."

* * *

Yata hummed as he baked a red cake for Anna’s birthday, he had Kamamoto check this time to make sure. It was embarrassing that he couldn’t do something as simple as tell colors apart, but it was worth the embarrassment to make sure that Anna’s cake was perfect. Kamamoto also appreciated being involved in the baking process for all the taste-testing opportunities. 

This party was going to be great. He felt himself smiling and just genuinely feeling the happiest he had felt since Fushimi left. Even realizing it only left a faint pang in him now. Seeing him would bring it back, he was sure, but fuck it if he was going to let that bastard keep him from enjoying the rest of his life. 

He was writing Anna’s name when Kusanagi ran into the kitchen, Kamamoto had left earlier after preparing the pink icings for Yata. His face was white. 

“Yata, emergency. It’s Tatara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yata is oblivious and wouldn't have noticed that he suddenly had issues with colors when he was mesmerized by his cool new friend.


End file.
